Til the Very End
by Kallisto12
Summary: One-shot. Follows movie version rather than books. Begins just before the battle of Hogwarts, delving into the motivation of one character's desire to fight. Harry POV. Slytherins can't be all bad, can they?


This is my first and most likely only Harry Potter story. Short one shot that takes place just before the battle at Hogwarts starts and carries on from there. This is from how it unfolds in the movie, with epic Snape and McGonagall stand off, rather than the books version of events. Which is also good, just not how I was picturing things progressing for this story. Just about one of the many fictional people who fought in the battle, going into a specific character's motivation to fight. Told from Harry's POV so it doesn't have an in depth look but I wanted it to be seen through the eyes of someone who played a more significant role in the books.

I hope you like it. Sorry if it doesn't deviate enough from the movie events and covers a lot of what happened there.

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'Til The Very End

Harry had stood transfixed as Professor McGonagall shot stream after stream of blistering fire at Snape.

He had filed in line with the rest of the students as they had been called to gather in the great hall upon his arrival. He knew it must have been related to his appearance in Hogsmeade. It had been a risk but a necessary one. They needed to find the remaining Horcruxes so that they could all finally be free of Voldemort.

Harry could scarcely imagine what that world would be like, Voldemort having always had a hand in his misfortunes in life through one form or another. But he knew he wanted to find out.

As he had walked along the halls that had become his home the last few years he couldn't help but feel as if it was another place entirely. It reeked of despair, the once bright corridors bleeding away into drab and miserable confinement. For the first time, Harry was actually happy he had been unable to return to Hogwarts that year. If he had had to spend every day watching the place he loved deteriorating into something so monstrous and unrecognizable it would have killed him. Even the students had seemed to be sucked of all joy. The fight beaten out of them efficiently. But he knew that to at least not to be entirely true. He had been greeted by so many of his old schoolmates upon his arrival. Broken, weary, but still harboring hope, still willing to fight, despite their suffering and the futility of it. That's why he knew Voldemort could not win. There was too much courage and goodness in this world to be snuffed out by one powerful yet frightened dark wizard. He was not stronger then them.

Snape had stood on the raised platform in front of the students like he belonged there. Causing Harry to burn with rage. After all that he'd done, he had the gall to act as if he were someone to be revered, to be respected. After Snape had demanded that anyone who had any information to his whereabouts come forward he'd chosen that moment to make his presence known.

He had never doubted that Professor McGonagall was a witch of tremendous power but seeing her in action was something else entirely. She was fierce, even awe-inspiring. The magic flowing through effortlessly.

Their victory was short lived as the screaming started and Voldemort entered their minds sending out his decree.

" _I know that many of you will want to fight. Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. But this is folly. Give me Harry Potter."_ Harry glanced around at the frightened faces around him. Only just realizing how young they were. They were all children, not meant to be fighting a war, not meant to be having to watch their friends and family die. This life had asked too much of them, just as it had their parents before them. " _Do this and none of you shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour to decide."_ A trickle of fear made its way up his spine, especially as those around him stepped away from him. He knew most would stand with him, but even he himself couldn't deny the allure to Voldemort's deal, despite knowing he'd never keep to it. They'd be safe as long as they never defied him, never got in his way, but they would never feel safe, never be free to be happy.

"What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!" Patty Parkinson screamed as she pointed at him. The other Slytherins around her nodding in agreement.

Before he could even blink Ginny was in front of him, wand raised in protection, followed by Hermione, the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army, and what seemed like the rest of the school.

A new fear washed over him then as the tension grew. Fighting Death Eaters was one thing to think about, fighting their fellow students. People they'd grown up, knew, had become friends with was another thing entirely.

Thankfully-and he never thought he would have cause to think that. Ever! - Filch came running in at just that moment, screaming, "Students out of bed! Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!" Effectively breaking the tension with the absurd familiarity of the scene. Everyone in this room having been exposed to his brand of censoring now and again.

"They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!" McGonagall said with a roll of her eyes. Harry almost wanted to laugh, especially when he saw Ron's lips quirk up as well.

Filch giving a sheepish "Oh. Sorry, Ma'am," in response.

"As it happens, Mr. Filch, your arrival is most opportune. If you would, I would like you please to lead Ms. Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house from the hall," she said to the stunned faces of said house.

"And where is it I'll be leading them too, Ma'am?"

"The dungeons will do." She said it with no joy only out of steadfast necessity.

As Slytherin began funneling out of the room McGonagall questioned his return. Explaining how it couldn't be avoided he needed one thing. Time. She readily agreed to garner as much as they would be able to despite knowing it would require much sacrifice. This night was only ever going to end in blood.

She paused when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Harry turned to see what she was looking at. A girl from Slytherin house stood there, back straight, face uncompromising. Harry could not say he recognized her. He himself had always done his best to steer clear of Slytherin house, and admittedly did not know them as well as he could. But she was older, at least in her final years of Hogwarts. Maybe even his year.

McGonagall seemed to recognize her though, her face softening only slightly. "You too, I'm afraid Ms. Hadleigh."

"I'm staying," her voice wavered slightly in fear, even as she stood strong. A few Slytherin's who were still making their way out of the room stopped to stare at her. A girl who must have been a friend of hers reached out to take her hand and pull her away. The girl, Ms. Hadleigh, shook her off taking a step towards himself and the Professor. "I want to-I need to say and fight," she said more surely this time.

Ginny and a few others had been near enough to hear the conversation, all staring at the girl confusedly, with a good amount of suspicion.

Shaking her head, "I'm afraid I can't allow that, Victoria" the professor said sadly.

Victoria jutted her chin out at the other students who were preparing for battle. "If they can stay, I can stay."

"We can trust them," Ginny spat angrily. "We can't trust you."

"You don't need to," she held her hand out to McGonagall. "Make an unbreakable vow with me."

The professor looked slightly stunned at the young woman's willingness to make such a dramatic suggestion, hesitating slightly as she began to reach out her hand in return.

"Wait," Harry finally spoke, placing his hand gently on the professor's and lowering it to her side. "Why?" The girl looked at him then, her brown eyes boring into his conveying a need that Harry himself was all too familiar with. The need to fight for something more important than himself. But she said nothing her lips pinching firmly closed. "You'd fight with us. You'd risk your life for us."

"Pfft, not for you," Ginny took some offense to the other girl's blatant disregard and went to take a step forward only being stalled by Ron's restraining hand. She glared at him but remained where she stood.

Harry sighed, he didn't have time for this. "Then what? You have family not in Slytherin? Hate Voldemort," the girl flinched at the name. "Look, I'm sorry but I'm just trying to understand. Why are you so willing to die?"

"Why are you," she shot back at him. The two stared at each other, Victoria breaking first glancing away and blinking back what Harry thought were tears. Taking a breath, she reached inside her robe and pulled out a piece of paper. Looking at it longingly for a long moment, she eventually handed it to him, practically shoving it into his hands. "I won't die for you or for anyone in this room."

Harry glanced down at what he now found to be a photograph. It was of Victoria and a boy he didn't recognize either. She was smiling widely at the camera, her eyes closed as the sun beat down on her, highlighting her dark hair and making shades of red visible. Her arms were wrapped round the neck of the boy as he kissed her cheek, his own arms wrapped around her torso as he cradled her in his lap. They were frozen in a moment of utter bliss and love. But Harry still didn't understand. What did this boy have to do with anything?

Hermione had come up behind him and glanced over his shoulder at the picture. At her sharp intake of breath, he turned back to her not masking his confusion.

"It's not moving," she told him softly.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced back down to the photo only then realizing what he'd missed. Having grown up in a muggle family the fact that the people within the picture weren't moving seemed normal to him. But Hermione had realized it wasn't, just like she always did. Victoria was Slytherin, most likely born and bred. A family who had lived in the magical world for centuries wouldn't have a picture that didn't move.

His eyes widened as the full meaning settled within him. It was a muggle picture, of a muggle boy, who she, a Slytherin, was in love with.

He looked up meeting her eyes once more. There was a sadness in them, but no less resolve.

"I'd die for him."

Voldemort's thirst for power would never end at the boundary of the magical world. He saw humanity as a scourge on this earth, if muggleborns weren't up to snuff for his level of purity, full muggles would never be accepted. He'd kill or enslave them all. They were beneath him.

"I can't live in a world where he can't," despite their audience, she told him, and only him. A tear finally managing to escape, making its way down the same cheek the boy in the photo had been kissing. She wiped it away hurriedly.

Harry handed the photo back to her, nodding. She returned it as she tucked the picture safely back into her robes.

"Here come with me, we're heading to the south wing," Cho said to her, accepting Harry's decision. Victoria nodded and followed after the already departing group.

He turned back to McGonagall and saw her worried gaze flighting across her students preparing for battle. Her eyes finally landing back on him, "Do what you have to do. I'll secure the castle." He turned and began hurrying off. "Potter," he turned around at her soft call. "It's good to see you," she meant it, but it was bittersweet. He knew the feeling.

...

Harry thought he'd feel different. After finally defeating Voldemort, he'd thought he'd feel happy…safe, maybe. He hadn't counted on how heavily the weight of the deaths of those they'd lost would feel.

After having destroyed the elder wand he returned to the castle.

Turning a corner, he found Cho resting a blanket over another fallen friend. He rushed over to her, helping her pull the sheet over the body as best he could, too afraid to ask who it was. She smiled at him gratefully but couldn't hide her sadness. The look finally giving Harry the final push to look under the sheet. He steeled himself as he lifted the blanket he'd just helped lower and glanced at the frozen face of Victoria Hadleigh.

For some reason, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Harry stumbled into a sitting position, his knees bent as he laid his hands across them, pulling his hands together in anger, taking deep breaths as the tears began to pour out of him. He wasn't ashamed of the tears, but surprised that they would now begin when confronted with the face of a woman he didn't know.

He didn't know her. He may not have even liked her if he had. But he'd had hoped that she'd get her happy ending. Would reunite with her muggle love and they could help start a new world.

A new world that so many would now never be a part of now. Fred, Tonks, Lupin, the Creevey's, and so many more were all lost to them. It was too much. Too much pain. Too much suffering. Too much…

He heard Cho shuffle next to him, coming into his view as she knelt. She pulled out the picture Victoria had guarded so lovingly.

"She asked me...she asked me to tell him…" she sniffled. "If she didn't make it, to tell him that she loved him 'til the end."

"Does he know about this? Did he know about her?"

"I think so, but I guess I'll find out for sure," it was said so sadly but with such resolve. "She saved my life."

Harry roughly ran his dirty sleeve across his running nose, not carrying in the slightest how gross it was. "Will you tell him…Will you tell him what she-what they…" _Will you tell him what they died for?_ He trailed off not really knowing what he was asking. Was he asking her not to tell him or to tell him? Telling a muggle about the magical world is against the law, Cho could get in trouble, the boy's mind could be confounded. But didn't he deserve to know? Didn't Victoria deserve him to know of her sacrifice? Didn't they all deserve for the world to know of their sacrifices?

"I'll tell him. I have to." Harry nodded feeling it was the right decision.

They stayed there a few minutes more, mourning the dead, until tending to the needs of the living became a more pressing issue.

And throughout the day Harry watched as slowly life began to creep into those around him. Those who survived the night slowly picking up the pieces, together. Bandaging the wounded, conversing quietly, topics turning towards lighter subjects. And slowly smiles returned. Small ones, but sincere smiles nonetheless. The grief would come again, it might never truly leave them, but right now they needed to live. Harry felt some of the what he should've expected to feel from the very beginning, hope.


End file.
